Mr Comatose
by SubZero153
Summary: It seemed funny that even after all that happened through the years, this would be the thing to kill him. And yet here he was, dying all because he thought he could save someone again.


**First time writing for Supernatural** **so any and all feedback would be wonderful. Also this has major character death, just an FYI because I got pretty sad writing it. So you have been warned. Also if you could let me know any constructive criticism** **that would be great, I only want to become a better writer. Sorry for any mistakes or typos.**

It seemed funny that even after all that happened through the years, this would be the thing to kill him. Not Lilith, Michael, Lucifer, Crowley, Naomi, or even Dean. No, he was to be killed by some low class rouge demon who grabbed his angle blade. It all seemed rather fitting. But this time it was different, this time it almost felt right. Like falling asleep after staying awake for three days. In this case two millennia, but sleep still sounded nice. It sounded peaceful, it sounded quiet.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this, he was supposed to grab supplies for Sam and Dean at the bunker. He'd gone to the stores on the list and grabbed some food and shampoo and pie. Dean had told him to grab some pie. He was walking out of the convenience store, and about to zap out, when he saw a man and woman fighting in a park across the street. He wandered over to see what they were arguing about, something along the lines of cheating. The woman turned to walk away, handbag swinging, stilettos slapping the pavement, when the man grabbed her. Hard. It wasn't a friendly grab it was a bone-crushing, bruise leaving grab. Castiel hurried his pace over to the confrontation, he dropped his grocery bag and yelled at the man to leave her alone. He normally kept out of others affairs but if the Winchesters were here they would have stopped it. So why shouldn't he? The men let go of her and focused his attention to Cas.

"What did you say to me pal?" he said. Head cocked, eyes blurred.

"I said leave her alone." Cas replied. His voice was stern.

The woman who had been standing there until this point, turned and ran away. The man looked Castiel in the eyes. That's when Cas noticed he wasn't a man at all. He hurried forward to smite the demon but it wasn't that simple.

The demon had been quicker and charged at Cas, knocking them both to the ground. He had Cas's arm pinned above his head and was punching him with his free arm. He landed a hook on Cas's left cheek, making him see stars. Pinned under his weight Castiel struggled and managed to free his arm. He pushed his weight up onto the demon and managed to roll them both, so Cas was on top of him. He discharged his angle blade and was ready to stab him when a hand pulled his hair back. He was thrown off the demon and was staring into the face of the woman he was trying to save. He quickly tried to scramble up but was kicked in the shoulder. His blade clanked to the floor a few feet out of reach. It was almost in slow motion, seeing the shining silver of heaven fall just out reach. Seeing the large demon man grab it. Time slowed down. He pushed himself up onto his feet, swaying a little. The woman was grinning behind the man, she was clearly a demon too. His arm swung out and hit Castiel right the abdomen, the blade hilt deep in guts and blood. And all time stopped. He looked down at his bleeding vessel, red blood and blue grace seeping out around the blade. It didn't hurt like he thought it would. It only felt distant. And then time started again, the dagger was pulled out and the demons smoked out and Cas fell.

The first time Cas rebelled he was very young. Only a teenager by angle standards, a few thousand years old. He was told that heaven had made a mistake and he need to send a man to hell, who they let into heaven. Cas thought it was odd, heaven never made "mistakes" but he went anyway and entered the heaven of one "Jacob Cain" inside he saw a young man playing with a girl. Presumably his daughter, they were together and happy. She was chasing him around and he was letting her catch him. Cas though "how the hell am I supposed to send this man down under" so he didn't. He was punished for disobeying direct orders of heaven. He was sure it was just a test, to see if he would obey but he couldn't find it within himself to listen. He was always the broken angle with a mind of his own until he met Dean. Dean and Sam changed everything. He was never asked to raise Dean from perdition, actually some other angle was chosen but Cas rebelled again because he knew that he needed to do this. He pulled a broken man out of hell and when trying to put the broken shards of glass back together that were Dean, he cut himself. He cut himself on humanity. And in a heartbeat he would do it again.

Team Free Will had stopped the fucking apocalypse. He rebelled from heaven for humanity because he had to save humanity. No other angels cared, not really, well a few but they all died. And now he was dead too, Cas thought, or at least dying, he'd be dead soon enough.

He dragged himself with his arms over to a nearby tree and sat up against it. The gash in his stomach was bleeding freely, he could feel his grace slowly draining. He couldn't fix himself, not this time. What was odd was that he was strangely okay. He'd died before and God always brought him back but Cas desperately hoped that this time he wouldn't. He didn't want have to live again because he had lived a damn good life. 'Quit while you're ahead' that's how the saying goes, and this was just the time to quit. Except for Dean, he wasn't ready to quit for Dean. He moved his hands to his pockets and fumbled around for his cell. He thought perhaps I should call Dean. He shaking fingers dialed his number and it rang a few times before the call connected.

"Cas, where the hell are you man?" Dean said. Cas was never so relieved to hear his voice. He thought of what he wanted to say.

"Dean" he rasped out. His voice was weak and shaky.

"Hey Cas, you alright." Dean said. Concern was creeping into his tone.

There was so much to say but all he could muster out was…

"Dean"

He wanted to tell Dean that he loved him. Cas wasn't even sure what he meant by that, but he knew he loved him in some capacity or another. He wanted to say thank you, thank you for not giving up on the fallen angel. Thank you for being a friend, for caring about his welfare, for giving him a place to stay, for teaching him how to be human, for saving the world. He wanted to say thank you for every little thing Dean had done because it all mattered. Dean hadn't given up on him when everyone else in the universe did. Dean was the only one who stood by his side. Dean had shown him humanity, the greatest joys and deepest pains that go with it. And he really wanted to thank him for loving him back. He wanted to say it all but he couldn't find the words, so he just breathed out.

"Thanks"

Dean was frantic on the other end, he could hear his friend's rugged breaths and winces. He was calling his name but got no response. Dean hated not knowing what was going on, it made him feel so out of control. So useless.

"Thank you Dean," Cas started again, "and tell Sam thanks too,"

"Cas don't you dare hang up," Dean was yelling now, "tell me where you are. Cas! Cas! I need you to tell me what's wrong. Son of a bitch!"

Cas couldn't help it anymore, tears he never knew were hiding behind his eyes spilled out. It might have been from the pain that was staring to grow or the stench of blood stinging his nostrils or the yelling voice on the other end of the phone. But he was crying, and wet hot tears stained his pale, cold, face.

Dean was still yelling, but Cas hung up. It took him four tries to hit the right button, his damn hands weren't working right. He cried even harder. Dean didn't need to hear that. He knew that Dean would trace the call and find his body bloodied beneath the tree. He knew Dean would try to bring him back, to try and fix him. He knew Dean would go back to the bunker and drink a bottle or five. He knew Dean wouldn't sleep for weeks and he would surely destroy all the furniture in his room. He knew Dean wouldn't talk to Sam or anyone. He knew Dean would become reckless again. Cas knew he couldn't stop Dean from doing all those things but he could stop Dean from hearing him cry, from hearing him die. Every sob hurt like a bitch, every time he coughed a little blood stained his lips. His blood tasted like hot, liquid iron. This is it, he thought. After all these years, today would be the day. The day had started like every other one but it sure had a different outcome.

He couldn't help but smile through the tears, it was bittersweet. The end, that is. He couldn't help but reflect on all the times, good and bad. He knew he lived a life many only dream of, that he had accomplished so much. So the end was bittersweet, it was goodbye and it was a chance at peace. He wondered where angels go when they die, no one ever told him. Perhaps no one knows. He hoped it would be heaven because then he could see his friends again, like Hannah and Gabriel and Balthazar and maybe even Anna. And then one day hopefully far in the future two hunters would come. They would have thought they were damned to hell but they would end up in heaven, because every mistake they made was for the right reasons. He could see his family again, Sam and Dean. It would be nice. No monsters or demons or apocalypse just them. Maybe then he would tell Dean he loved him because then there wouldn't be anything else to worry about.

He coughed again, pain racked through his body. He was surprised he was still breathing. His breaths were shallow and labored. He looked at his hands, covered in his own blood, staining them red. There was so much blood, it matted his shirt to the wound. He felt really cold all of the sudden. Like someone had stuck him in a freezer. He shivered and felt the wind blow. The wind picked up some leaves on the ground and tossed them around for fun. He sighed and watched the leaves. They were orange and red. But they were dying. Leaves turn colors when they die because of the change in pigments. It's a beautiful death. He wondered his death was supposed to be beautiful because his only hurt. He was ready but it still hurt. He took another breath, it was getting harder. There was so much blood. Castiel was always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.

Even with him gone the boys would be okay. They would go on without him, they had too. Team freewill, one ex-blood junkie, one dropout with 6 bucks to his name, and (soon to be permanently) Mr. Comatose over there.

 **Thanks so much for reading. Also sorry if I made you sad.**


End file.
